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Heart's Desire 

"God give you your heart's desire, 

Whatever it be," she said; 
Then down the gallery's shining length 

Like a thing of light she sped. 

Her face was a stranger's face; 

Her name I shall never know; 
But softly her benediction fell 

As the night-winds breathing low. 

Who knoweth the heart's desire ? 

Its innermost secret dream? 
Its holiest shrine where the altar lights 

Forever and ever gleam ? 

Who guesseth the heart's desire ? 

Ah, neither you nor I! 
It hideth away in darkling space 

From the gaze of the passer-by. 

Who giveth the heart's desire 

To the child that cries for the moon? 

Or the samite robe and the Holy Grail 
To the soul that was born too soon? 

Who giveth the heart's desire 

To the lover whose love lies dead ? 

Or the priest who faces the silence 
With the living word unsaid? 

Who giveth the heart's desire 
To the poet with harp unstrung, 

When he droppeth the trembling lyre 
With his noblest song unsung? 

Jidia C. R. Dorr, in the July Scribner. 



If Lincoln's Plans Had Been 

Carried Out Sumter Would 

Have Been Saved 

He had been President less than twenty- 
four hours when, on the morning of March 
5, he learned the precarious situation at 
Fort Sumter, then not publicly known. He 
at once called on General Scott for reports 
and advice, and on March 12 Scott stated 
in writing: "It is, therefore, my opinion and 
advice that Major Anderson be instructed to 
evacuate the fort . . . and embark with his 
command for New York." Scott had served 
with distinction in the War of 1812, had con- 
ducted a brilliant campaign resulting in the 
capture of the City of Mexico, was now the 
senior oflScer in the army, and the highest 
military authority in the land. 'Lincoln 
instantly and wisely overruled him. For 
various reasons, stated in his message to 
Congress of July 14, "this could not be al- 
lowed." Lincoln's orders were exactly the 
opposite, to organize an expedition for the 
relief of Fort Sumter; and no one worked 
more loyally to carry them out than General 
Scott. A few days later it was a question of 
Fort Pickens in Florida. Scott recommended 
that it be evacuated. Lincoln sought other 
advice, reached his decision that Fort Pickens 
should be re-enforced, and sent this order to 
Scott on Sunday, March 31 : "Tell him that 
I wish this thing done, and not to let it fail, 
unless he can show that I have refused him 
something he asked for as necessary." Scott, 
on receiving the order, said in his sententious 
manner, "Sir, the great Frederick used to 
say, ' When the King commands, all things are 
possible.' It shall be done." It was done; 
and this fort never passed out of possession 
of the United States. The expedition to 
Fort Sumter failed, but through no fault of 
Lincoln. 

From "Lincoln as Commander-in-Chief," 
by Major-General F. V. Greene, in the Jtdy 
Scribner. j j ^ 



Lincoln's Great Patience 

His mental processes were slow — though 
sure. And thought of personal insult never 
influenced him. On one occasion he weni 
to McClellan's house and waited several hours 
to see him, only to have McClellan come in 
and go to bed without seeing the President at 
all. On another occasion, when McClellan 
failed to keep an appointment at the White 
House, and the others, who had come, ex- 
pressed their impatience at McClellan's delay, 
Lincoln only remarked: "Never mind; I 
will hold McClellan's horse, if he will only 
bring us success." 

Such patience, such tolerance, such sacri- 
fice of self to anything that will help accom- 
plish a supremely important result are the 
marks of a great soul, but not of a great 
soldier. His military perceptions were more 
accurate than those of any of his generals in 
independent command, e.xccpt Grant, Sher- 
man, Sheridan, and possibly Thomas. But 
his self-effacement, his diffidence, his doubt 
whether the country would sustain him, if he 
peremptorily asserted his opinions against 
those of his professional military subordinates 
left the army with two heads or three heads 
or no head at all until the really efficient man 
was found in Grant. 

From "Lincoln as Commander-in-Chiej," 
by Major-General F. V. Greene, in the July 
Scribner. 



Lincoln 



Was a Great 
Leader 



Military 



As time goes on Lincoln's fame looms ever 
larger and larger. Great statesman, astute 
politician, clear thinker, classic writer, master 
of men, kindly, lovable man. These are his 
titles. To them must be added — military 
leader. Had he failed in that quality, the 
others would have been forgotten. Had 
peace been made on any terms but those of 
surrender of the insurgent forces and restora- 
tion of the Union, his career would have been 
a colossal failure and the Emancipation 
Proclamation a subject of ridicule. The 
prime essential was military success. Lincoln 
gained it. Judged in the retrospect of nearly 
half a century, with his every written vi'ord 
now in print and with all the facts of the 
period brought out and placed in proper 
perspective by the endless studies, discussions, 
and arguments of the intervening years, it be- 
comes clear that first and last and at all times 
during his Presidency, in military affairs his 
was not only the guiding but the controlling 
hand. 

From "Lincoln as Commander-in-Chief," 
by Major-General F. V. Greene, in the July 
Scribner. 



When Lincoln First Met Grant 

On the 2gth of February, 1864, Congress 
passed an act reviving the grade of lieutenant- 
general in the army, and within a few days 
Grant was appointed and confirmed to this 
office. On March 10 he was "by E.xecutive 
Order assigned to command the Armies of 
the United States." It is stated in Nicolay 
and Hay that Lincoln neither advocated nor 
opposed this legislation. The bill was intro- 
duced by E. B. Washburne, Member of 
Congress from the Galena district in Illinois, 
an old political friend of Lincoln and a great 
admirer of Grant. Just why Lincoln was 
neutral in the matter does not appear. An 
ungracious comment in Nicolay and Hay 
reads as follows:" "Whether he was or was 
not the ablest of all our generals is a question 
which can never be decided. . . . Grant was, 
beyond all comparison, the most fortunate of 
American soldiers." There are no facts 
vi^hatevcr to justify this depreciation. Grant 
owed his success solely to his clear-sighted 
appreciation of facts and to the tremendous 
energy and resourcefulness with which he 
carried his plans into effect — as Sheridan ex- 
presses it, to "the manifold resources of his 
well-balanced military mind." 

Grant was ordered to Washington to re- 
ceive his commission, and met Lincoln for 
the first time on March 8, 1864. Grant says 
in his "Memoirs" that both Stanton and 
Halleck cautioned him against giving the 
President his plans of campaign, because 
Lincoln was "so kind-hearted that some 
friend would be sure to get from him all he 
knew" — a piece of advice which, in view of 
Lincoln's discretion and Grant's reticence, 
seems quite superfluous. Grant's only com- 
ment is that the President did not ask him for 
his plans, nor did he communicate them to 
him — nor to Stanton or Halleck. Lincoln 
said to him that "all he wanted or ever had 
wanted was some one who would take the 
responsibility and act, and call on him for all 
the assistance needed," and he " pledged him- 
self to use all the power of the government in 
rendering such assistance." In short, Lin- 
coln believed that at last he had found the 
man competent to command the armies, and 
he promptly retired to the background, limit- 
ing his military activities to the still mighty 
task of giving Grant the full support of the 
government in every branch. 

From "Lincoln as Commander-in-Chief," 
by Major-General F. V. Greene, in the July 
Scribner. 



Capturing a School of Herring 

The seine ready, tense silence followed. 
Over beyond the eastern hills it grew a little 
light. Jared, Ebon's brother, who had come 
aboard our sloop, puffed his pipe and swore 
softly. 

"Gosh, Eb, look at 'em playin'! — thick 
enough to git down an' walk on 'em every- 
whar ye look!" Tiny, almost undiscernible, 
ripples were all about us. The men had 
hurried into oil clothes. Now four tumbled 
into the seine boat. Two took oars. Jared 
and Eben stood aft by the big seine. The 
latter surveyed the water on all sides. The 
rowers awaited his signal. 

"There they be t' starb'd — Holy Mackerel, 
what a school! Lay to it, boys, 'n' give her 
hell!" And things began to happen. 

The seine boat leaped from the water under 
the powerful strokes of the oars; the keg buoy 
on one end of the net splashed overboard, 
followed by great armfuls of seine as Jared 
hove it out; a long curve of floats followed the 
foaming wake; then, the boat, after describ- 
ing a broad, circular sweep, shot past the keg 
again. Eben pulled it aboard. Spreading 
out from the seine boat lay a wide circle of 
dipping floats. Then, peering curiously over 
the dark sky line at the unusual sight, came 
the rim of the harvest moon. 

The school surrounded, the seiners jumped 
to "purse up" the net. It was quick work. 
Men hauled desperately and the bottom of 
the seine came together, catching the fish in a 
huge bag. Not until the gap was closed did 
the seiners draw breath. 

"Guess we ketched all the herrin' in Black 
Cove," grunted Jared, wiping his wet face 
with a wetter hand. "Look out for them 
floats!" 

Foiled at the bottom, the herring struck up- 
ward to the surface and drove at the floats in 
silver streaks of light. Here and there floats 
went under, and men in dories were busy 
holding them above water. Baff'.ed above 
and below the fish made the water boil. 

From "The Lobslerman's Island," by Sid- 
ney M. Chase, in the July Scribner. 



A Day With the Lobster Fisher= 
men 

"Fust of the month law's off on lobsters, 
an' it's a sight t' see when all them sloops load 
solid o' lobster-pots, and start out to set 'em. 
'F ye do," he went on, "I'll take ye out some 
mornin' an' let ye haul a few lobsters t' see 
how it's done." 

It was not many days later, when, one 
morning, the crimson flush of sunrise found 
us out in True's double-ender, True standing 
at the oars, and me in the stern. It was a 
wonderful Indian Summer morning, with a 
long lazy ground swell that hardly splashed 
on the wet rocks along shore. Outside lay a 
sloop, her sails slack, while the "put-put" of 
her motor came faintly across to us. 

"Them's my buoys," said True, as he 
deftly slid the boat alongside a red and white 
float and dropped it aboard. Catching the 
line attached to it, he hauled steadily until a 
dripping lobster-pot rose suddenly beside the 
boat. True swung it aboard, and two lob- 
sters snapped for his hand as he flung the 
lath door open. He tossed them carelessly 
into the tub forward. " Cool weather makes 
'em lively," he said. From the bait tub he 
took a net bag stuffed with herring, stuck it on 
the iron spear in the lobster-pot, and closed 
the door. Splash, it went overboard, line 
and buoy following. 

"Lobsters climb int' the pot through that 
hole in the nettin' 't the end," explained True. 
"Eat the bait, 'n' then, bein' more'n common 
stupid, can't find the hole t' git out agin." 
The method was simple, after all. 

True said the lobster fishermen at the 
Island averaged to have one hundred and 
sixty traps each, and of these they hauled 
half every day. 

From " The Lobslerman's Island," by Sid- 
ney M. Chase, in the July Scribner. 



West Point Horsemanship Is Not 
All It Should Be 

A question will here naturally arise as to the 
riding taught at West Point, enthusiastic 
descriptions of which fill the columns of the 
metropolitan press at commencement time; 
do not these young graduates know their 
horsemanship and are they not at once avail- 
able to teach the recruits of their regiments? 
The answer is no. The same change which 
has affected the country at large and which 
has been briefly referred to has equally 
touched the Military Academy. When Sher- 
idan, Grant, the Lees, and many equally good 
but less famous horsemen went to West Point 
they undoubtedly carried with them a con- 
siderable baggage of practical horsemanship; 
the riding at the Academy unified, polished, 
and applied to military ends this previous 
knowledge. At the present day, on the con- 
trary, a cadet usually starts his riding-hall 
career with a complete ignorance of the horse, 
and the time allotted to riding at West Point 
is too small to enable his instructors to do 
more than teach him the mere rudiments of 
horsemanship. He does learn to stick on 
and to be, in most cases, a daring and vigorous 
rough-rider, but horseman he generally is not 
when he graduates, and at least a year of 
persistent work under the best teachers for 
four or five hours a day is needed before the 
average youngster is at all ready to act as a 
riding-master for recruits. 

Another reason why West Point is no longer 
sufficient as a school of equitation lies in the 
fact that our standards of horsemanship are 
now higher than they were ten or fifteen years 
ago, and the complacent satisfaction which 
then existed with our methods has been suc- 
ceeded by a fearless criticism of them and a 
frank comparison with the superior results 
obtained in other armies. This has been 
brought about by several causes, chief among 
which are the numerous visits of our officers 
to European countries having well-trained 
cavalry and highly developed schools of mili- 
tarv equitation, and the arrival early in life to 
positions of high rank and influence of cavalry 
officers who themselves are vigorous horse- 
men, such as General Bell, our present chief 
of staff, General Garlington, our inspector- 
general and General Aleshire, our quarter- 
master-general. 

From "The New Army School oj Horse- 
manship," by Major T. Bentley Molt, U. S. A., 
in the July Scribner. 



The New U. S. A. Mounted Ser= 
vice School at Fort Riley, Kan. 

For the purposes of instruction one hundred 
and eighty horses are kept at the school. 
These are of various breeds and classes — 
jumpers, trained buckers, well-schooled 
horses, untrained colts, and polo ponies. A 
troop of the Tenth Cavalry, colored soldiers, 
furnishes the necessary grooms. It is found 
that these colored men make better grooms 
for the high-class school horses than do the 
average enlisted men of white regiments. 
They like their work and stay longer. 

For the first two months the student is put 
on a thoroughly trained horse in order that he 
may comprehend what sueh a horse is and 
have a model to work up to. The trained 
animal also shows up faults of horsemanship, 
which the instructor and the rider can both 
take account of and gradually correct. Dur- 
ing this time he also rides daily a well- trained 
jumper for the same reasons. This work is 
all done in the riding-hall, using the English 
saddle, mostly without stirrups, and changing 
horses each day. 

It is of course to be understood that these 
officers are already fair riders. War Depart- 
ment orders direct that only officers of special 
aptitude be selected for Fort Riley, as it is a 
place, not where officers learn to ride, but 
rather where good riders are formed into ac- 
complished horsemen and useful instructors. 

At the end of two months each man is given 
a colt to train, and this may be said to consti- 
tute his most important work for the year; 
upon the results obtained his horsemanship is 
largely judged and his place in the class de- 
termined; but more important to the service 
at large is the fact that through this instruc- 
tion a correct and uniform method of training 
remounts is assured to the whole army. 

From "The New Army School of Horse- 
manship,'" by Major T. Befitley Molt, U. S. A., 
in the July Scribner. 



In the Heart of the Dolomites 

The little town of Cortina lies in a high 
valley in the heart of the Dolomites, with 
green meadows and pine woods all around it; 
a beautiful clear river pouring straight down 
from the glacier running through it, and 
mountains shutting it in on all sides. The 
small square, with the post-office and Muni- 
cipio, looked most animated as we drove up. 
Diligences, carriages, post-carts painted yellow 
with the Austrian arms in black, were coming 
and going. People were crowding into the 
post-office (we, too, like all the rest), asking 
for telegrams and letters, places in the dili- 
gence, etc. It is hard to believe that we are 
still in Austria. The whole aspect of the 
place, the look of the people, the names of the 
streets and shops are Italian, and almost every 
one speaks Italian. We found neither letters 
nor telegrams at the Poste Restante; we 
drove on to our Hotel Miramonti, just outside 
the town. It stands high, with a pine wood 
at the back, and is just like all the hotels in 
the Tyrol — a square, white house, with 
wooden balconies on all sides. Our luggage 
had arrived — was standing at the door, and 
the proprietor and his wife were waiting to 
receive us. They were a handsome couple — 
very good specimens of the peasants of the 
Italian Tyrol. He, a tall broad-shouldered 
man, and she, a very pretty fair woman, 
dressed in Tyrolian costume. Their names 
are Romeo and Juliet. She alluded to her 
husband once or twice, while showing us our 
rooms, as " Romeo." So I said, " You ought 
to be called Juliet." To which she replied, 
with a blush and a giggle, that her name was 
Giulietta. They had kept us nice rooms — 
corner ones — at one end of the corridor, with 
good balconies. We brushed off a little dust, 
then went downstairs, had tea in the hall, and 
afterward sallied out for a walk in the pine 
woods behind the house. It was very warm 
and perfectly dry, so we sat down on the 
grassy slope of the hill and looked at the 
gorgeous panorama all around us. The 
mountains a soft gray as the afternoon light 
faded, and then a beautiful living pink in the 
last rays of the sunset. 

From "In the Dolomites" by Madame 
Waddington, in the July Scrihner. 



Titian's Birthplace 

We interviewed the Padrone about going 

to Pieve di Cadore — a quaint little village, on 

the top of a hill, famous as Titian's birthplace, 

about two miles from Tai, by a very steep 

road. If it had been fine we should have 

walked there, but the road was transformed 

into a running stream, and it seemed wiser to 

take a carriage. A drive of fifteen minutes 

brought us to Pieve. The carriage stopped 

in the middle of the "Piazza Tiziano," under 

Titian's statue, and the driver asked what 

we wanted to do. It had begun to rain again 

hard, but we scrambled out from under the 

dirty, smelly hood, and armed with umbrellas 

started for Titian's house, telling the driver 

to wait for us at the Hotel al Progresso. The 

village is small. Some rather large stone 

houses, which are dignified with the name of 

"palazzi." Titian's house didn't say much 

to us. Two small, low, dark rooms. One 

can't imagine how the boy could have had any 

inspiration or visions of his splendid coloring 

in such surroundings — but one of the rooms, 

they told us, was his studio. However, he 

was taken to Venice, to study, when he was 

only ten years old, so it was only his first 

childish years that were spent in Pieve. 

Some people live in the house — a barber, I 

think. They showed us all over the rooms 

and said a great many people came to see 

them — principally English. We went on to 

the church — the oldest in Cadore. There 

were several interesting paintings — two by 

Titian — a Madonna and Saints — and others 

by members of his family, the Vecellios. 

There are still Vecellios in the village — one 

sees the name quite often. The butcher, 

cobbler, and grocer are all \^ecellios. There 

is, of course, too, an Albergo and a Cafe 

Tiziano. All the pictures had the gorgeous 

coloring of Titian and the Venetian school of 

that time. The museum is next to the church, 

with various interesting relics of Titian. 

Some sketches and some letters written to him 

by great personages — ^also many of his own. 

He always remained in touch with his native 

place, and came back to it very often — wanted 

to come home to die when he was ninety-nine 

years old and the plague was raging in Venice. 

He tried to get away, but no one was allowed 

to leave the doomed city. He was seized with 

the dreadful malady and died practically 

alone, his servants having already succumbed 

to the plague. There must be a magnificent 

view from the terrace, but that vje shall only 

know from postal-cards or descriptions. 

Frojn "In the Dolomites" by Madame 
Waddington, in the July Scribner. 



Canterbury Pilgrims in Old Puri= 
tan Gloucester 

On the fourth of next August the seaport 
city of Gloucester, Mass., will hold an out- 
door fete unique in the annals of New Eng- 
land. At night, overlooking the harbor from 
a natural amphitheatre seating fifteen thou- 
sand people, a combined masque and pageant 
of the fourteenth century will be performed. 

The descendants of the Pilgrims of Glouces- 
ter will give welcome to the Pilgrims of 
Canterbury. For the first time in more than 
five hundred years, Chaucer himself will ride 
in pilgrimage — surrounded by the motley 
characters of his imagination — not in the 
vellum of William Morris, nor between the 
covers of a text-book, but on solid ground, 
under the stars. Moored within a few hun- 
dred yards, twentieth-century war-ships will 
blend their search-lights with the many- 
colored fires of the pageant. From across the 
bay — when the pealing of chimes gives cue 
fr^m imaginary spires in the masque — the 
bfells of Puritan steeples in the to\\Ti will — for 
liie first time in their history — ring for mass — 
it the ancient shrine of Becket! Among the 
thousands of spectators, as chief guest of 

/honor, the President of the United States has 
accepted the city's invitation to be present. 
In view of so unusual a celebration by a 
' city so distinctively American, it seems worth 
while to consider the local significance of this 
pageant-masque, and to correlate it with 
some of the larger meanings of pageantry and 
drama for our time and country. 

The first settlement of Gloucester was in 
1623, at Stage Fort. There, in the same 
year, was erected the house of Roger Conant, 
first governor of the Massachusetts Bay 
Colony — a quaint, gabled structure now no 
longer standing. In March of the present 
year, through the Gloucester Committee, the 
city authorities unanimously decided to take 
steps to reproduce this ancient landmark on 
the original site, as a permanent historic 
museum. 

From "American Pageants and Their 
Promise," by Percy MacKaye, in the July 
Scribner. 



A Famous French Chateau 

Of the chateaux about Melun the most 
important historically as well as artistically 
is Vaux-le-Vicomte. While Louis XIV was 
still contenting himself with the comparative 
luxury of his palaces at St. Germain and 
Fontainebleau as they then existed, his chan- 
cellor, Fouquet, having carefully administered 
the afifairs of state largely to his own profit, 
determined to build for himself a chateau that 
would eclipse anything his royal master then 
. possessed. He appointed Le Vau his archi- 
tect and Le Brun his artist-in-chief, and with 
their help perfected a magnificent set of 
plans which cost sixteen million francs (an 
enormous sum for those days) to complete. 
When Le Van's work was finished, Le Brun's 
began. He assembled at ^'aux a veritable 
army of artisans and artists, and established 
himself there with his wife like a grand 
seigneur in an entire apartment on the first 
floor. A tapestry factory was established 
nearby at Maincy, where the elaborate 
hangings for the rooms and for the furniture 
were woven. 

Le Notre, then at the beginning of his 
career, was next called in to plan the gardens, 
and they were his first great opportunity. 
Posterity has united in saying that he made 
the most of it. Hundreds of workmen 
changed this barren plain to a garden of en- 
chantment, replete with every device that Le 
Notre's imagination gave to the French school 
of landscape architects. 

If we consider the amount of artistic efl'ort 
expended in the construction and decoration 
of Vaux, in the architecture of its gardens 
and the making of its furnishings; if we stop 
to consider that Fouquet was a renowned 
collector of pictures, tapestries, statues and 
rare prints; that his numerous portraits were 
graven in steel by twenty different engravers; 
that he collected coins and had numerous 
medals struck for himself — we can understand 
why he was called the Maecenas of his day 
and why he merited the title. 

But alas, his "fool's paradise," as it was 
called, proved his undoing! 

From "Unfrequented Chateaux near Fon- 
tainebleau," by Ernest C. Peixotto, in the July 
Scribner. 



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